


Academic Integrity

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Series: AoS College AU [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, TA/Student Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye is banging two of her TAs.  Not at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Academic Integrity

Skye flops onto Jemma’s bed.

“I’m banging two of my TAs,” she says into the mattress.  Jemma clears her throat.

“Shoes,” Jemma chides.  Skye grumbles something nasty.  She tries to kick off her boots.  With a huff, she rolls over.  She unlaces the boots and flings them off her feet.  One of them just misses Fitz.

“Hey!” he protests.  Skye is unimpressed.  She crosses her legs.

“Now, what did you mumble onto my comforter?” Jemma asks.

“I’m banging two of my TAs?” Skye says, “I thought it was kind of weird that you didn’t react the first time.”  Jemma barely reacts this time.  It’s not in her nature to gasp.  It’s in Fitz’s nature though, and he’s dramatic enough for himself and Jemma.

“At the same time?” Fitz half whispers.  Skye doesn’t know why he’s whispering.  The door is closed.  The roommate’s gone.

“No, idiot,” Skye says, “I bang Ward on Tuesdays and Lydon on Fridays.”  Jemma’s not even paying attention.  Maybe she is.  She doesn’t seem to be plussed.

“That sounds fine,” Jemma says, and that’s how Skye knows she’s in deep shit.

“Oh, come on,” Skye whines, “I make them wrap it up.”

“Do they know about each other?” Fitz asks.  Jemma’s taken to frowning.  Not enough that it’s glaringly obvious.  The disapproval is in her eyes, mostly.

“Um, no,” Skye says.  “Jem, Jemma, come on.  Look at me.”  Jemma does as Skye asks.

“Are you doing this for the grades?” Jemma asks.  A lesser woman would be flushed by now.  “Because you are perfectly smart, Skye, and I don’t like the idea that these teacher’s assistant’s just-”

“I’m doing it for the _sex,_ ” Skye confirms, “I promise.  Lydon grades for Comp Sci, which I could ace with my eyes closed.  And Ward is Linguistics, and it’s an intro course.  I’m not worried about my grades.”  Jemma relaxes her shoulders.  “You can be judgey,” Skye tells her, “don’t think the worst of me.”

“I-” Jemma starts, “I’m sorry.”

“So tell us,” Fitz says.  He’s covering for Jemma.  It’s his thing.  “Who do you like more?”  Jemma’s taken to unpacking her bag.

“Well-”

“You’re not actually mad at me, right?” Jemma asks, “I didn’t mean to make you upset.  You’re right.  I shouldn’t have been so-”

“Bitchy?” Fitz adds.  Only Fitz is allowed to call her the b word, as a rule.

“Shut up, Fitz,” Jemma says, “but yes.”  Skye smiles.

“Oh please,” Skye says, “so I got your panties in a twist.  Not the end of the world.”  Jemma takes this as an okay to sit down on her bed.

“Which one do you like better, though?” Jemma asks.  Too sweetly, but Skye doesn’t mind a little ass kissing.  Even if she isn’t mad.

“Wanna see dick pics and compare?” Skye asks.  Jemma looks right down at her knees.

“No!” Fitz says.  “A bit.  Yes.”  He takes the spot on Skye’s left.  “Let me see.”

 

\--

 

Skye winces at the wet, squelching sound of Grant pulling out.  He groans, then kisses her forehead.  She’s got beads of sweat along her hairline.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” he asks.

“What?” Skye says.

“A date.  Do you want to go on a date with me?” He’s wiping off his dick.  Like it’s no big deal.

“You were just inside me,” Skye tells him.

“I remember,” he says.

“Aren’t you like, not allowed to be seen in public with me?” Skye asks.  She’s still on her back.  There’s something poetic about that.  She hasn’t figured it out, yet.

“We can drive another fifteen minutes west,” he says, “next town over.  Should be fine.”  She pulls herself up.

“Have you put actual thought into this?” She asks.  He won’t meet her eyes.

“Yes.  No.  Yes,” he says, “do you want to do this?”

“What night?” she asks.  He’s staring at her breasts.

“Don’t people usually go on dates on Fridays?” he asks.  She grabs her ankles.

“Yeah, I guess.  I prefer Saturdays.”  He finds this funny.  She likes it when he smiles at her.  More than she should, all things considered.

“Why’s that?” he asks.  He’s sitting down.  She rests her head on his shoulder.  Her nails scrape at his inner thigh.

“Dunno,” she says.  “So what does a date with you entail?”

“Um,” he replies, “I’m not really sure, yet.”  He takes her hand in his.  His thumb brushes against her knuckles.

“Smooth,” Skye teases.  She elbows him in the ribs.  He lets out a noise of surprise.  His hands are at her sides, holding.  He pins her to the mattress.  There’s a soundless laugh between his teeth.

“You’re so stupid,” she tells him.  “You’re a fucking loser.”  He doesn’t care enough to look wounded.

 

\--

 

Skye unties Miles from the headboard.  He rubs his wrists.  She rises to her knees.

“Lay down with me,” he asks, curling to his side.  He doesn’t clean up right away.  It’s his bed.  He’ll wash the sheets.  She presses her back against his stomach.  His fingers move along her ribs.  She thinks he’s tracing numbers.  A pattern.  A code.

“Dork,” she snickers.  He laughs back.  

“We should go get drinks sometime,” he says.  She twists her neck, looking at him.

“I’m 20,” she says.

“You have a fake ID,” he tells her.  She would pretend to be scandalized, if he wasn’t spot on.

“You’re not a very good TA,” she says.  Her neck is starting to hurt.  “Sleeping with students.  Encouraging underage drinking.”

“You wouldn’t go for a straight laced type,” Miles tells her.  She choses that moment to turn her head back.  

“You think I have a type?” she asks.  He plants a kiss into her shoulder.

“I’m hoping I’m your type,” he tells her.  “So drinks?  Tomorrow, maybe?”

“Can we take a raincheck?  I’m free Sunday.”

“Are you proposing brunch?” he asks.  She fakes a shudder.

“Don’t say brunch to me,” Skye says, “that’s a Jemma word.”

“Jemma?” Miles asks.  Skye reaches behind and grabs his hip.

“Don’t worry about it.  Sunday.  Drinks and dinner.”

“Dinner too?” Miles laughs, “You’re moving to fast for me, baby.”  She laughs.

“I’m not your baby,” she tells him.

 

\--

 

Skye calls Jemma on Saturday morning.

“They want to go out with me,” Skye says.

“At the same time?” Jemma replies.  “No, Fitz, you can’t just pair socks that don’t-give me that!”

“Are you doing laundry?” Skye asks.

“Hm?” Jemma replies, half there, “Oh.  Yes.  It’s Saturday morning.”

“I’m going out with Grant tonight,” Skye says, “Miles tomorrow.”

“They’re going to find out,” Jemma says.

“Who is?” Fitz asks in the background.  “The TAs?  Did something happen?  Are there more pictures?”

“Quiet, Fitz!” Jemma says.  Skye can feel Jemma furrowing her plucked little eyebrows together.

“I mean, if they both find out, whatever.  They’ll ditch me, I’ll move on.”  Skye pulls a few dresses out of her closet.  This should not stress her out.  This will not stress her out.

“You’re not that dispensable,” Jemma says, and she means it.  “If they want to go out with you then they clearly like you, and people are going to get hurt.”  Skye’s going through her underwear drawer.

“Weren’t you against this like, five days ago?” Skye asks.

“I was only against you thinking that the only way you could get good grades was through sex,” Jemma says, “I don’t like it when you doubt your own intelligence.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” Skye says.  “Do you think I should wear that red dress you got me or something black?”

“He’s linguistics, right?” Jemma asks.  Skye finds the underwear she’s looking for.  Hot pink.

“Yeah,” Skye says, “pretty simple.  Kind of boring.  Really sweet, though.”

“And what about Miles?” Jemma continues.  “What’s he?”

“Comp Sci,” Skye reminds her, “self righteous as hell, but he reminds me of a puppy.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Jemma says.  She’s given up.  Skye can tell.

“I’m wearing black tonight,” Skye says.  “Does it count as having sex on a first date if we’ve been fucking this whole time?”

“Fitz!” Jemma yells, “You can’t just put my underwear away all rumpled like that!  You have to fold it first!”  Skye hangs up.

Black it is.


End file.
